


Null Hypothesis

by TheIcyQueen



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Kingdom Hearts Birth By Sleep, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 01:30:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17315528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIcyQueen/pseuds/TheIcyQueen
Summary: Just a little too late, Even reflects on his cohorts' characters. If only he could've predicted what would come to pass.





	Null Hypothesis

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt-fill for the fabulous SilentGoliath on tumblr: Why are Vexen and Lexaeus so bitter or angry towards one another? How did they interact before they lost their hearts?

He could not claim any particular fondness for the Guards, as a unit. Lord Ansem had, of course, had his reasons for taking them in, each and every one, but there were days where Even doubted the wise man’s judgment. As a man of science, observation was his second nature, hypothesis and postulation his credo, and what he saw gave him pause. They performed their jobs adeptly, he would allow them that much—exceedingly powerful and intimidating in their own way—but their dispositions were cause enough for his discomfort. 

Braig caused in him a fair amount of alarm, just by sharing his air. He wasn’t built to be a Guard, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he had a trigger finger with an insatiable itch and the sort of precise aim that could make the most hardened expert tear up in envy. All the same, there was something distressingly _animal_ in those blazing eyes of his, something ragged in his sharp smirks and loose gait. No, Even didn’t trust Braig in the slightest, and made no attempt to hide his cringes and grimaces whenever he found himself in the sharpshooter’s vicinity. 

Dilan was not half so alarming, at first glance, but that was hardly saying anything. His countenance was cold and stony, and there were times where Even wondered why Ansem hadn’t just procured a gargoyle for the Castle’s exterior and left it at that. He spoke little and sympathized even less, but when his voice made an appearance, it was always tempered with white-hot cynicism and biting wit. He held himself with the sort of confidence that men of his size were easily afforded, but seldom deserved, and all it took was a well-timed scowl to send the room into a cold silence. He was the calm rippling of a river, luring unsuspecting passersby into the deadly undercurrent, leaving them to gasp and drown as the voracious waters pulled them down to the muddy bottom. 

Aeleus was concerning in a manner completely separate of his brethren. The largest of the three by a foot in each direction, he was a hulking brute of a man; born of a mountain, all monstrous proportions, rugged angles, and harsh lines. But beneath the sheath of rock was something worrisome in and of itself—intellect. It wasn’t the same sort of well-honed cunning Braig and Dilan kept coiled deep and hidden, but a startling intelligence and understanding that took Even by surprise. The man’s prowess of puzzles, of problems, of abstract thought and deduction was startling at best, terrifying at worst, kept compressed and silent behind a mask of brute force. The other’s might’ve smirked knowingly at Ansem’s speech, might’ve swaggered with bravado, but Aeleus _understood_ , and Aeleus _knew_ , and that was horrifying. 

Even had other concerns, of course, anyone of his calling would know the importance of mapping out all possible caveats before progressing into any sort of naturalistic paradigm. Aeleus empathized and stood fast, and _trusted_. Even cared little for people, outside of those who could provide him answers or organic tissue, and so he had to turn his nose up at that. People _lied_ , and people _took_ , and people _destroyed_ —raw data could not lie, statistics could not beg for pity. Still, he found himself inexplicably riveted by the Guard, in much the same way any anomaly piqued his interests.   

But the fact remained, the Guards were not much more than slobbering junkyard dogs in his eyes, and as such, picking a favorite meant little more than addressing the other man by name instead of simply gesturing flippantly in his direction. One didn’t grow attached to the tiny things that grew at the bottom of the petri dish, after all. 

The changes began when someone else stepped in—a dark, dangerous voice in the Guard’s ear. Ienzo thought himself clever, and rightfully so, but someone as seasoned as Even could smell tampering a mile away. He was well versed in the side-eyed glances and understated smirks of a thief as they put their hands on a subject not rightfully theirs. 

He watched as the Guard’s nature acted against him, bringing him deeper and deeper into the mire of the prodigy’s lies and schemes. The Guard began standing between them, shooting terse glowers and glared warnings whenever Ienzo was spoken over. He ceased meeting Even’s eyes in the halls, he grew aloof and brooding and curt. Ienzo lied as fish swam—with effortless grace and skill—and it took little more than one distasteful look from the Guard to guess what sort of stories he’d been filling Aeleus’ head with. 

And oh, it was maddening. The fool couldn’t see he was being had, couldn’t see how deeply Ienzo’s influence ran. Only when it was too late would Even realize Aeleus was not the only one beguiled. Not until they both lay on the icy floor, fingertips stretched out toward the lifeless body of their shared ward, and no time remained for explanations or pleas.

It had not been the conclusion he’d predicted, but there would be no replicating these results. 

**Author's Note:**

> Reupload from 9/23/13.


End file.
